Back to High School
by TheNinjaAssassin
Summary: When NCIS discovers that a student at a high school may have links to a terrorist group, the team, along with Ducky and Abby, must go undercover as high school teachers. It starts feeling like high school again—the drama, the popularity, and the relationships.
1. The New Assignment

**Disclaimer: However much I wish I did, I don't own NCIS or the characters.**

_A/N: This is my first fanfic, so please review! Be as brutally honest as you would like, but please don't flame!_

**Chapter One: The New Assignment**_  
_

"Whoa! Um . . . Mr. DiNardo? Miss Dayan? I'm—um—sorry. I'll be leaving now," the boy said, backing out of the room.

Ziva, who had Tony shoved against the whiteboard with his arms twisted behind his back, let go. Tony breathed out a sigh of relief as he massaged his wrists.

"That's okay, Andrew," Tony told the teenager. "It's not what it looks like. Sometimes my Israeli coworker here can't control herself around me. It's my—UMPH!"

"Oops, sorry, _Tommy,_" Ziva whispered to him, slowly drawing her elbow away from Tony's gut. "Andrew, we were just having a little . . . discussion and things got a bit out of arm."

"Miss Dayan means 'out of hand,' Andrew. In any case, you can just forget you ever saw us, understand?"

"Yes, sorry, sir. Sorry, ma'am."

Ziva's gaze darkened slightly.

"Oh, Ms. Dayan doesn't appreciate being called 'ma'am.' And don't apologize so much—it's a sign of weakness."

The student nodded as he backed out of the classroom.

"Tony, I do not think that we are very good role models for students in America."

"Well, Ziva, we're not going undercover as teachers to be 'good role models,' now are we?"

"No, I believe that we are here to find a terrorist."

* * *

**Three Months Earlier**

"Are you serious!?" two different voices exclaimed in two very different tones.

Gibbs's team had just received intel that there may be a possible threat among the students at a high school, most of whom were children of Marines or Naval officers.

"Boss, I get to go back to high school!? I guess it could be college, but still, I'll fit right in!" Tony said as McGee muttered something about how this was 'going to be good.'

"Not as a _student,_ DiNozzo."

"Right. I knew that."

"Gibbs," Ziva began, "I am not sure that I am the right person for this job. I have never investigated children before. None of the techniques that I learned at Mossad would be appropriate in this situation."

"Well, David, it's a good thing that you're at NCIS now, isn't it?"

Ziva opened her mouth to protest, but Gibbs raised his hand to silence her. Just then, the Director started down the stairwell. She stopped halfway down and leaned over the railing to observe the team.

"Special Agent Gibbs, I see you've informed them about their new assignment."

"Well, Director, I just told them that they were going undercover in a high school. Would you like to tell them the rest?" Gibbs asked, a ghost of a smile on his face.

"Of course, Jethro." Jenny climbed the rest of the way down the stairs and strode into the bullpen before speaking again. "All of you—Special Agents DiNozzo, David, McGee, and Gibbs—will be going undercover as staff members." All of their eyebrows were raised, and Gibbs's almost-smile disappeared. "We have reason to believe that a student may be working for a small terrorist group from the Middle East. We have picked the subjects that each of you shall be teaching according to your specialties. As we are not certain which grade this student is in, we suspect he or she is a junior or senior. However, we will also be observing the lower grades. Also, in order to have eyes in as many classrooms as possible, Miss Sciuto and Doctor Mallard will be assisting you. Mr. Palmer will probably be taking on a more prominent role in our autopsies. We have temporary replacements coming to fill in for them while they are gone."

"Director," Gibbs interrupted. "May I talk to you for a moment?"

Looking slightly reluctant, Jenny agreed. They both walked towards the elevator. After they had stepped through the doors, Jethro flipped the emergency stop switch.

"Now, Jethro, I know what you're going to say—"

Gibbs raised a hand to silence her. "You never said anything about _me _going undercover, too."

"Jethro—"

"I won't—"

"_Special Agent Gibbs,_" she said, raising her voice. "I believe that I am the director, and last I checked, I was your boss. You _will_ go undercover."

There was a moment's silence, and then Gibbs spoke up.

"What subject, Jen?" Gibbs sighed, defeated.

"I was about to get to that before I was interrupted." She looked at him pointedly. "You will _not _be teaching a certain subjects, you will be doing maintenance on the classrooms, all of which seem to be having problems. I think that you will do fine with that job," Jenny said with a half-smile.

After she had finished speaking, he flipped the switch again and waited. The elevator doors opened and he marched back out, the director on his heels. The three team members that had been left waiting in the bullpen fell silent and turned expectantly to the pair that had just entered.

Director Shepard continued as if there had never been any interruption. "The school year starts in a couple of weeks, and in order to prepare for your classes, we will have trained teachers to help you plan your classes and develop teaching strategies. I will email all of you a list of your jobs for the next few months. There will be no complaints. Am I clear?"

"Yes, Director," three voices recited in unison.

All four members of Team Gibbs watched her as she retreated to her office. After her doors had closed, Ziva, Tony, and McGee all scrambled to their computers to check their email.

Ziva was just wondering what in the world she would be teaching as her computer powered on. She banged on the computer impatiently as she logged into her account and waited for Jenny to send the email. Less than two minutes later, a new message popped up from the director of NCIS. Ziva opened it and looked at everyone's jobs expectantly.

The email read:

**Undercover Assignments:**

_Leroy Jethro Gibbs_—Maintenance

_Anthony DiNozzo_—American History

_Timothy McGee_—Computer Instructor

_Ziva David_—Foreign Languages

_Abigail Sciuto_—Chemistry and Forensics

_Donald Mallard_—English and Literature

Ziva smirked as she read the list over. Her job was no surprise, but she didn't bother containing her smile after reading Tony's assignment. She finished reading the message as Tony opened his. The Israeli leaned back to watch his reaction as DiNozzo read his job. His expression was a mix between disbelief and outrage.

"But . . . how . . . I never told her . . ." he sputtered as Ziva and McGee watched the spectacle amusedly.

"Tony! It looks as if your time as the 'little poo boy' is finally weighing off!"

"It's _paying _off—how can you expect to teach foreign languages if you can't even speak English properly?"

"Well, I am not teaching _English. _I am teaching foreign languages."

"Whatever. MCGEEK!"

Tim looked at Tony, eyebrows raised. "Yes, Tony?"

"Oh, God, this is going to be GREAT! McGee as a teacher? Oh, the students will have so much fun with you."

"HEY! Little Poo Boy!" Gibbs snapped. He hadn't even bothered turning on his computer.

"Yes, boss?" Tony replied, becoming solemn immediately.

"Go tell Abby about the assignment."

"On it, boss."

"David, you tell Ducky."

"On it."

* * *

Tony stepped out of the elevator on Abby's floor and briefly braced himself for her reaction. He sauntered into the lab, waving the Caf-Pow he had only just remembered to bring.

"I come bearing gifts!" he called.

Abby ran out of her office and gave him a hug. She took the Caf-Pow, beaming at him. "What brings you down here, Tony?"

"I'm here to tell you about our latest mission."

"Why?" Abby inquired.

"Aren't you curious?"

"Of course, but it's just that you wouldn't normally tell me if there was no point."

"Well, it just so happens that you play a role in it."

Abby waited.

Tony explained the mission, and before he arrived at the part of their jobs, he told her to check her email. Abby ran to her computer, and Tony watched her face as she skimmed over their assignments. She smirked as she read over the line that Tony assumed was his, but stayed silent.

After she finished, she turned to face him and did not say a word.

"Well?"

After a moment of silence, the forensic scientist began jumping up and down.

"OH MY GOSH! TONY, THIS IS SO EXCITING! I'VE ALWAYS WANTED TO TEACH A CLASS BEFORE! Oh my goodness, I have to start planning. I'll need to know the curriculum and see the textbooks and plan the classes and—"

"Abby, calm down!" Tony said, smiling. He had expected one of two reactions: she would either get really nervous or freak out with excitement. He had been hoping for the latter, and he got it.

"Oh, by the way, how do you like your job?" Abby teased.

Tony groaned.

* * *

"Hello, Ducky!" Ziva sang out cheerfully as she walked into autopsy.

"Ziva! What a pleasant surprise!"

"Well, Ducky, I am not here on a social fall. I am here to explain to you our latest mission."

"Social call? And I would be delighted to hear about the mission."

"It actually happens to involve you, Ducky."

She explained as well, and received almost the same reaction as Tony had from Abby, although with significantly less jumping and screaming.

"You know, this reminds me of a time when I was at school . . ."

Ziva laughed, trying to think of how this could possibly relate to his youth.

* * *

Back in the bullpen, Gibbs sat back in his chair and sighed. These were going to be some long months.

_A/N: I'm really busy with school right now, so I may not be able to update very frequently, but I'll go as fast as I can! (And, yeah, they're short chapters, but that's just how I write!)_


	2. New Arrivals

**Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS. If I did, Tony and Ziva would be a happy couple. :)**

_A/N: I know I said that I wouldn't update that frequently, but it _has _been a really long time, hasn't it? I'm not apologizing (Rule #6), but I'll try to update more. Although, it's just about November, which means it's time for NANOWRIMO! More writing! :)_

_A/N 2: I deleted this chapter and rewrote it quite a few times, and finally just decided to post something. So tell me if it's confusing, and I'll rewrite it. (To me it seems pretty uneventful.)_

_A/N 3: To clear things up: This is slightly AU (I tried to avoid it, but it just kinda happened__—I'm thinking this takes place about three-four years after Ziva comes to NCIS__) so these are the changes:  
__Ziva is an NCIS Agent, but Somalia never happened._  
_McGee still went up North and Ziva still went to Miami._  
_Jenny's (obviously) still alive._

_A/N 3: Reviews would be much appreciated. Please? I'll write faster! :D_

**Chapter 2: New Arrivals**

"Are you serious, Director?"

"No, DiNozzo, I was just kidding," Jenny snapped sarcastically. She exchanged glances with Gibbs, whom she had already had this conversation with and was glaring at her.

"We _have _been preparing for this for months," Ziva said.

"I know, and I truly have tried to prevent this, but I've been given no choice."

McGee strode into the bullpen, and, upon seeing all the murderous looks on his team's faces, almost walked back out. "What's going on?"

"_Madam Director _handed over the lead on our undercover assignment," Tony said bitterly as Jenny rolled her eyes, letting the name slide.

"What!?"

"Agent McGee, an al-Qaeda operative has just accepted a job at the high school that you are going undercover at, an operative that is currently being investigated by the CIA. According to the Director of National Intelligence," she said with a look of disgust on her face, "their op is to overrule ours. However, they are _oh so kindly _going to allow us to continue our investigation under the condition that they have jurisdiction."

All members of Team Gibbs sat quietly fuming at their desks. McGee was staring at the Director in disbelief, blinking rapidly. Ziva was checking her email, pressing all buttons quite a few times harder than necessary. Tony was flipping through a magazine, almost tearing the pages out, and an aura infuriation was emanating from Gibbs.

There was a ding from the elevator, and Jenny looked towards the opening doors.

"Oh, he's here early," she said, as Ziva's mouth dropped, and she almost choked. "Agents Gibbs, DiNozzo, McGee, and David, this is to be the CIA agent in charge of your assignment."

McGee, Tony, and Gibbs scowled at him. Ziva's eyes flitted around nervously at every person present in the room.

Jenny cleared her throat and spoke again. "Meet Agent Ray Cruz."

* * *

**One Month Earlier**

It had been weeks since Team Gibbs, along with Ducky and Abby, had been informed of their mission to go undercover. All team members but Gibbs had been preparing in between cases and paperwork. Some were enjoying their training; others . . . not so much.

Ziva had finished her session with the foreign languages teacher, and she was on her way to spy on the remainder of the others' classes. Nearing the end of the hallway, she peered into the first conference room, in which McGee was meeting with his instructor. Ziva smirked as the man exasperatedly said, "Run through Chapter 9 again, Timothy. This time, with emotion." McGee was noticeably frustrated, but not without reason—the teacher, though undoubtedly intelligent, was one of the most soporific people she had ever had the pleasure of meeting. Tim was actually an excellent teacher, and the only doubt Ziva had was about the amount of verbal abuse the students may put him through. She caught his eye and made an attempt to smile encouragingly before moving on.

Wandering around the corner, she found Tony lounging back in his chair with (of course) an attractive blond history teacher perched at the edge of his desk, facing him. As she walked forward, Ziva overheard him saying, "Who knew the Civil War could be this interesting? I mean, I always knew I loved learning about history, but never this much . . ." as he comfortably rested his hand on her knee.

Ziva rolled her eyes and stepped behind him. She leaned down and spoke in his ear. "Really? I did not know you liked history." She straightened up and looked at the woman in front of her. "Honestly, you should hear the stories of his childhood. Wait—actually, he is still in childhood."

Tony glared at her. "That's personal."

The woman looked between them, confused. Then she stood up and shook both of their hands. "Well, Agents DiNozzo, David, I'll see you next time."

"Oh, Nat, you don't have to leave now. Agent David was just leaving."

"Was I?" Ziva asked quietly, eyebrows raised.

"I apologize," she said pointedly, "but I need to go."

"Goodbye, Natalie," Ziva said with a slight smile on her face.

Both Tony and Ziva watched her until the elevator doors had shut, and then Tony turned to her. "Really, Ziva? I was just about to have a date tonight."

"Um . . . you are welcome?"

Tony made a face at Ziva, who smiled sweetly at him. "I will see you later, Tony!" she said radiantly as she walked away with a slight bounce in her step.

As soon as Ziva was out of his range of vision, the senior field agent walked around the bullpen and ascended the stairs to the director's office. Cynthia wasn't in her usual position, and the door to Jenny's office was slightly ajar. He heard Abby's voice before he could see her.

"Director. I respect you, but no."

"Abby—"

"No."

"Please be reasonable."

Tony peered through the crack in the door and saw Abby standing about a couple of feet from the director, arms crossed in defiance. He could only see her from the back, but he could see her head tilt to the side, waiting.

"I'm not asking you to wear your 'monkey suit,' as you like to call it. I am simply requesting that you wear something a bit more . . . school-appropriate."

"And this isn't?"

"Abby, when I was in high school—"

"You were in high school when, fifty years ago?" Abby said animatedly.

The director raised an eyebrow expectantly.

The forensic scientist shifted her weight to her left leg and glared stubbornly.

Tony, feeling like it was an excellent time to crash their little party, knocked twice and pushed the door open in an ostentatious manner.

"Tony!" Abby exclaimed. "Maybe you can help me explain to Madam Director why I should be able to wear _normal clothes _while undercover."

Glancing at Jenny, Tony saw her slightly amused glance, as if she was just waiting to see whom he would side with.

"Well, with all due respect, Director, Abby isn't exactly the most delightful person to be around when wearing—" He was cut off by a surprisingly strong punch to the shoulder. Tony playfully glared at Abby. "Anyway, it might be hard for her students to concentrate from fear." Here he paused, appearing to be deep in thought. "On the other hand, it might be hard for some students . . . particularly teenage males . . . to concentrate around her for . . . other reasons." _Ouch. _Her fist connected with his shoulder once again.

Jenny stifled a smile as she looked between them. "Well, I suppose I could talk to the principal about your choice of clothes. After all, there are more pressing matters than the slightly less-than-appropriate ensemble of one teacher."

Abby smiled, hugged Jenny from across the desk, squeezed Tony's hand, and skipped out.

* * *

Ziva was still waiting patiently for Ducky to conclude the intricate tale he was telling to Jimmy of his childhood. Jimmy, who was once again captivated by one of Ducky's stories, cleared his throat to alert the doctor of Ziva's presence, for which she was grateful.

"Ah, Ziva, I was just explaining a fascinating piece of literature that I came across while studying some new texts—would you like to hear about them?"

"I would love to, but not now—I have done nothing but hear about the others' studies for the past several hours."

"Ah, yes, I understand. What is it that you came here for?"

"Actually, I am here for Jimmy." At this, Jimmy looked up, slightly confused and shocked.

"Me?"

"Yes. Director Shepard would like to speak to you." When Jimmy started towards the elevator with a terrified expression on his face, she said reassuringly, "You didn't do anything wrong."

It didn't help. An amused Ziva and a sighing Ducky shared a glance as Jimmy frantically jammed his index finger into the elevator button.

"Mr. Palmer, you can come in."

Jimmy, who had no idea that she was aware of the fact that he had just spent several minutes pacing behind her cracked door, practically leaped into the room and saluted. Jenny just stared at him with humor in her eyes and said, "At ease." Jimmy looked down, embarrassed.

"I'm sorry, Director, I don't know what I did wrong—"

"What you did wrong was apologize—"

"Oh, yeah, I forgot. Agent Gibbs's rule seven?"

"Six. And I simply wanted to ask you how you felt about possibly working at the school as well. A member of their faculty recently moved away, and, rather than finding a new one, the school came to us to ask if we could spare another agent."

"But I'm not a . . ."

"And I told them we couldn't. We do, however, have an assistant medical examiner without a medical examiner to assist."

"Which teacher dropped out?"

"Math. But—"

"Director, I hate math."

Jenny's expression warned him not to interrupt again.

"As I was saying, the teachers are flexible, and, as they are all reasonably experienced, are fine with changing position if it means that a . . . less experienced teacher won't have to take it."

"But what do I have to do?"

"I have actually already told them that you are going to assist Mr. Mallard. However, if you would like to change—"

"No, no, no, that's great . . . oh, God . . . I don't know how to teach . . . I can't—"

"You may leave now, Jimmy," Jenny said with a small smile.  
Jimmy bowed, almost apologized, attempted to take the bow back, and ended up running out of the room to tell the team the news.

* * *

"Hey, Ziva. What are you doing?" Tony inquired once Jimmy had gone back to autopsy. Ziva had just let out a small noise that, if it had come from anyone but Ziva, he would classify as a giggle.

"None of your business."

"I'm your partner."

"I am well aware."

"That makes it my business."

"I don't stick my eyes in your business."

"I don't stick my _nose _in your business."

"Yes, actually, Tony, you do."

Tony groaned, leaped up, and sprinted the distance from his to Ziva's desks. Taken by surprise, she was just a second too late in closing a picture that had been enclosed in an email. During that second, he had enough time to glimpse a man with dark hair that had been combed back.

"Who is this mysterious man that can make the warrior . . . _giggle_?"

"I do not giggle. And do not look at my email." With that, she grabbed her things and strode toward the elevator, Tony struggling to catch up behind her.

_A/N: REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW!_


	3. The Damn CIA

**Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS. :(**

_A/N: I know. I suck._

_A/N 2: I was actually going to write more, but I've been out of ideas._

_A/N 3: Please review anyway, though. If not for me, for the story._

**Chapter 3: The Damn CIA**

"Ziva."

"Tony," Ziva mocked his serious, incredulous tone.

He ignored it. "That is the man that stole our case."

"Ray did not steal our case. The CIA took charge of it. He just happens to work for them."

"And he," Tony said tightly, "is the CIA agent that stole it."

"Stop overreacting, Tony. It was just his job."

"Well, his job is interfering with mine. And I don't appreciate it."

"Why are you telling me this? It is truly no interest of mine."

"I forbid you to go out with him, Ziva."

She laughed.

* * *

**One Week Earlier**

Three months. That was how long the team had been preparing for assignment. Three damn months. Three months of preparation, and the CIA just waltzes in and takes it. There were truly no words to describe the feelings that Tony was having for them right now.

He knew that they were all angry about the change, but Tony felt that they affected him personally. He couldn't say why. Maybe it was because it was the CIA—they had almost killed him, after all. Maybe it was because he was close to not resenting his position—nothing but positive things had come from it so far. Or maybe it was just that agent—_C. _, Tony thought. _That's a good one._ There was something about that man that was nagging at him, but he couldn't say what.

Ziva didn't seem to be too wild about that man, either. Tony wondered if it was her Mossad senses picking up on something, like he was. Or she may not have been nervous at all, and he was just reading her wrong. Unfortunately, he lacked her ninja skills.

And it was too soon to be thinking about things like these. He needed to cool down.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asked angrily.

"I'm sorry, Agent . . . De Nazzo?" Ray asked.

"Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo."

"I'm doing my job. And I would much appreciate it if you would give me your full cooperation."

Tony scoffed.

"Yes, I will assure you that every member of this team will be reasonable," Director Shepard said pointedly, glaring at each of them for at least five seconds.

McGee stared at his computer, arms crossed. Gibbs stared at the director. Ziva stared at anywhere but Agent Cruz.

"So, what did you want?" Tony asked in a falsely sweet voice.

"Actually, I wanted to meet everyone with whom I would be working. Ziva, could you please give me a tour?"

"Yes, yes, of course," Ziva said distractedly, avoiding his eyes. (That Tony _could_ pick up on.) She didn't seem anxious to leave with him. Even less than him.

Being the very noble man he was, Tony asked, "Do you want me to go instead, Ziva?"

She looked at Tony like she had forgotten about him and leaped up. "No." Ziva crossed to the center of the room. "Come up, Agent Cruz," she muttered.

"Come up?" he inquired. "It's 'on.'"

She rolled her eyes, clearly frustrated, after she already seemed stressed with the situation. "Whatever. Just hurry on." That one was on purpose, testing him to see if he would correct her. Tony hid a grin, although he knew Agent Cruz couldn't have known that Ziva frequently confused American idioms.

"Hurry on?" Ray asked.

Ziva just growled at him. Tony couldn't comprehend why she was already this pissed off at him, but who could explain sexy Mossad officers? Ziva stalked off toward the elevator, bumping Ray's shoulder painfully with hers. He followed, massaging his sore shoulder.

Once they had exited the bullpen, Tony picked up his phone to warn Abby before they reached her lab.

* * *

Ziva pulled Ray into the elevator as she violently muttered curses in Hebrew. She pushed him against the back wall, flipping the emergency stop switch.

"Um, excuse me, Ziva, but I can't really understand what you're—"

"What the _hell_ were you thinking, Ray?" she snapped.

"I don't know why—"

"I know that you were going to be introduced to the team eventually, but you know that they'll hate you under these circumstances."

"I'm just doing my job, Ziva."

She glared at him for a solid minute, arms crossed, as he waited for her to break the silence.

"And it's not like I'm arguing because I just have more time to see you every day."

More glaring. Ray placed his hands on her shoulders. "I'm sorry if this threw you off guard—"

"I do _not_ get thrown off guard!"

"Relax," he said gently while closing the distance between them. She stood stoically for a moment as his lips tried to coax hers into kissing him back, but eventually gave in, wrapping her arms around him.

* * *

A few minutes later, Abby called Tony back, informing him that he had been wrong, and that Ziva and Ray had not yet shown up at her lab.

"Sorry, Abs, they must have gone to autopsy first."

After a quick call to Ducky, Tony discovered that the two had not reached autopsy, either. He instinctively began worrying about Ziva, but dismissed the thoughts immediately. If anyone should be in danger, it was Ray.

"Boss?"

"What, DiNozzo?" Gibbs replied without looking up from the file he was reading.

"Ziva's lost."

"Have you tried _calling _her?"

Tony mentally head-slapped himself as he called Ziva's cell.

After a few rings she answered, sounding slightly breathless. "David."

"Ziva, where are you?"

"Um . . . in the elevator."

"Is Agent Cruz still alive?"

Tony heard Ziva's smile as she responded. "Mostly."

"Look, I know that we all hate that obnoxious man, but—"

"I know, Tony," she said, a little coolly. "We'll be at the lab in a minute."

He didn't know what to think about her sudden change in tone, but dismissed it—stress was to be understandable in light of recent events. He returned to staring at nothing and fuming, with the rare feeling of despising his job.


End file.
